Page:Popular Science Monthly Volume 10.djvu/622

604 half distracted at his situation. More advertising only aggravated his trouble. After a month he had lost hope, and, what was worse, his master at Banff wrote him that if he did not immediately return he would lose his place. He became despairing, and started for the seashore with a view of putting an end to his troubles. He had thrown off his hat, coat, and waistcoat, before plunging into the sea, when a flock of sanderlings lit upon the sands near him, and among them a larger and darker bird, that he was not acquainted with. They flew, and he followed them, again and again, until he exhausted himself, and worked off his misery. Nothing remained but to sell his collection, which he did for twenty pounds to a gentleman who wanted it for his boy. These specimens were stored in a damp room, and eventually perished; but the exhibitor got out of debt, and went back with his family to Banff.

Edward felt crushed and ruined when he got back to his home. He had not only lost the precious fruits of many years of loving labor, but his hopes of anything for the future but slavery in the shop were blighted, and his life looked dark and desolate. He resumed work, but at first had little spirit to begin replacing his lost specimens. Yet, as spring advanced, his passion again took possession of him, and he girded himself with his gun and insect-boxes and various appendages, and again sought his old haunts of observation. His zeal and perseverance were now greater than before. His friends protested that his exposures were wearing him out, but he says: "One look at my cobbler's stool dispelled every consideration. My wish was, at some time or other, to wrench myself free from my trade." He now improved his outfit by getting a coat with eight large pockets, and had four ample receptacles in his waistcoat; besides, he had a number of bags and wallets geared for convenient carrying, and all were stocked with facilities for advancing his work. On one occasion, after a prolonged tour, and when all his boxes and cases were filled with insects and worms of every sort, he was caught in a terrific thunder-storm, and soaked through and through by the rain. He reached a house at length and sought shelter, but the glue of his boxes had softened by the water, and, coming apart, let out the ants, worms, slugs, spiders, and caterpillars, so that he was completely covered with miscellaneous vermin. The woman of the house yelled at him: "Man, fat the sorra brocht ye in here, an' you in siccan a mess? Gang oot o' my hoose, I tell ye, this verra minit! Gang oot!" On looking at his clothes he found that he was a moving mass of insect-life and creeping things, and he cleared the room at a bound and took refuge in an old shed.

After his exhibition at Banff, he became a sort of general referee in regard to all curious objects found in the district, and got a great deal of advice as to what he ought to do, but nobody offered to help him. He had a family of eight, and his wages, even with extra work,